


Mr. Park

by areneecz



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Forced, Forced Anal, Forced Sex, M/M, Non Consensual, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, One Shot, Public Blow Jobs, Public Humiliation, Public Nudity, Public Sex, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 02:40:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11614200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areneecz/pseuds/areneecz
Summary: A normal day on the job is an exceedingly difficult task for Waylon to manage.





	Mr. Park

Manicured fingers slinked along the edge of the envelope, a freshly applied coat of crimson. Waylon eyed the open bottle of nail-polish hidden poorly in the corner of her work station.

"Did I catch you off guard?" Waylon teased as he tugged the yellow packet out of her grasp. "I didn't realize the salon had an opening." He added cockily as he flashed a smile.

"Funny." She replied, a careful maneuver as she flipped a collection of brunette curls over her shoulder. "Not all of us are as entitled as you are, dear." Lisa hummed, a smile pursing her blushed lips.

"Ah." He hummed heartily. "Alas, technology requires such a knack for knowledge, only the most elite are allowed a position." Waylon recited poetically.

"I dunno." She droned on with a gentle smile, a finger raising to tap at the skin of her cheek as she thought. "I think I could manage it." She added, eyes traveling momentarily before returning to Waylon.

Above, a single echoing alarm filled the air. Jeremy. Paging for Waylon as per-usual. Outside his office he managed such a cocky persona, but within, the saying took a whole new meaning. Forcing the packet underarm, he peeked at the time scrawled across his wrist-watch.

"You must be popular, Park." Lisa piped up, turning her attention back to the open bottle of polish. "Blaire can't seem to get enough of you." She added with a stretching smile.

"You have no idea." Waylon groaned with a frown, a blush of embarresment forming as he moved to hide the deepening red.

With a turn, he fled, issuing a small wave in Lisa's direction as he rushed from the room. A fear bubbling in his stomach as his mind reeled. Jeremy. A man who only paged him when a certain thought came to mind. Pleasure. As disgusting as it was, it was true. His boss had a sick obsession for making his employees do his dirty work. For some reason, Jeremy enjoyed it, a simple high. Waylon on the other hand did not. Quitting was reasonable, but with Blaire's issued threats, it was a poorly thought decision. Following the twisting hallway's he approached the familiar door and forced it open.

A sudden reaction, a man already on his knees, Jeremy's hands furled in his hair as he shoved him down. A slurping tongue lapping at the skin, a hiss as Blaire brought his teeth together, a grin forming on his lips as he shifted his hazy eyes to Waylon. Free hand covering his mouth as the other continued to bounce the gagging man below. A wink. Jeremey actually had the audacity to wink at Waylon as another helpless soul sucked off his hard-on. Throwing his head back he issued an inaudible sentence, broken apart by lustful groans. Kicking his leg out, fine-leather shoes snapped against the polished linoleum floor as he forced the man backwards. Exposed, he stretched back, relaxing in the leather chair as he stared at the man below gasping for breath.

"You caught me off-guard, Mr. Park." Jeremy grinned, a collection of fingers waving the man away as his attention turned to Waylon. With an embarrassed stare, the man scrambled to his feet as he rushed for the door, a hand wiping at his face as he escaped the room. "I thought I told you to knock first?" He added, a grin forming as he waved Waylon forward. An awkward stumble as he scrambled forward, packet furled in his grasp.

"I-I'm sorry." Waylon whined, dropping the packet within the space of one of the many armchairs scattered around the room. "I thought I'd be the only one." He added with a whirlwind of collecting thoughts.

"Jealous now, are we?" He cackled, hands furling to his exposed length to issue a shake. A familiar pain ghosted Waylon's knees as he assumed position. "Take out that jealousy, Park." He added with a toothy grin.

Hands wrapping. A nipping sensation as Waylon chewed at the skin of his cheek, a nervous tick. Cold fingers gripped the base of Jeremy's cock. A hiss echoing through his clenched teeth as he watched hungrily. A swirling rotation, tongue exploring the tip, ghosting over the gaping slit. Saliva, his, mixed with the mouth of the man previous. A sickening aroma of over-applied cologne ghosting from Jeremy's exposed skin. With an easing sigh he forced the morsel down, hands working in sync with his mouth. A laugh. Tickling the skin of his ears and making the hairs on his arms stand up, an audible chuckle enough to momentarily shake within Waylon's hold. Eager fingers eased through blonde locks as Jeremy forced his second victim forward. A loss of control, a gain for Blaire, what truly got him off.

"Out of the wonderful staff." Jeremy hissed, a continuous moment as he worked Waylon as a toy more than a human. "Your mouth is my favorite." He finished, a moan escaping his lips as he released his grip. With a pop, Waylon pulled back, a shower of white strips splattering on his face and gathering in his hair as a collection pooled in his mouth. Leaning closer, Jeremy's hands moved forward to force Waylon's mouth shut.

"Swallow." He instructed, wiping a line of cum from Waylon's face. He moved closer to press a kiss to Waylon's tainted skin. Touch hoarse, he forced the liquid down and slithered from Jeremy's grasp with an agitated groan. "Clean me off." He added. Automatically, with an instant movement he licked at the foul secretion before forcing Blaire's length back within his suit-pants. An echoing zip ringing in his ears as he stood.

Knees burning, he moved for his packet. Eager to leave, eager to forget. A sudden force pinned him forward, slamming his wrists against the wooden desk as another moved to ease his own pants free. A rattle of belts, the chaff of fabrics as Jeremy bit at the skin of Waylon's neck. A pin-prick of pain as teeth dragged along salty pale skin. Without warning, a single jabbing finger probed his insides. A grit, a pain as trimmed fingernails sliced at the sensitive skin within. Forcing his tongue against the material of the desk, Waylon fought to keep quiet, a hiss escaping as he endured Jeremy's needy appendages.

"Eager to leave, Mr. Park?" Blaire questioned, a smile stretching his lips as he quickened his pace. "Eager to escape?" He continued. A teasing tone, a teasing touch, everything about Jeremy was a tease, a ruse, a fucking game. With a slimy exit he pulled his fingers free only to force them into Waylon's mouth. "Eager to forget?" He finished. Coughing, gagging, he fought against Jeremy's force, his touch. The sour taste of his own insides writing against his revolted taste buds. Letting go, Blaire's touch moved to Waylon's bare behind, grip tightening around his exposed hips. Without warning, Jeremy jutted forward, forcing his cold length inside. Writhing, a scream escaping his lips, a echoing trail of groans. Pushing in completely, Jeremy moved to clasp a hand over Waylon's mouth.

"Lucky bastard." Jeremy teased as he pushed forward. "Having me like this, it's a fucking blessing." He added with a sickening grin. Nails dragging at the sheathed skin below as he fought to ease out his erection. A fight, a continuous battle. "This is what you wanted." Jeremy continued, a momentary pause as a familiar warmth began to overflow. "Isn't it?" He finished with an eager smile, pulling free.

Abandoning the frail man below, he pulled free, a moment of silence as he worked to sheath himself. The clang of metal echoing as he pulled his belt through the sewn loops. Chatter, the shuffle of shoes as he worked around the desk. Inching upwards, Waylon stood, pulling his pants up to hide himself, his shame, his weakness. Moving for the packet, a familiar grasp engulfed his hand, a sudden push as lips collided with his, a sloppy kiss Jeremy was quick to pull away from, a smirk as he took his seat.

"You're free to go, Park." Jeremy smiled, hands returning to an abandoned collection of Murkoff psychiatric reports, eyes busy as attentive ears followed the fading footsteps, churning metal as Waylon eased the doorknob. Papers crushed beneath his grasp as he veered for the nearest bathroom. "Come again" He hummed, a memorable sentence following the distraught and distracted technician.


End file.
